ABC
by Boriqua-chan
Summary: The ABCs of Zutara. This is inspired by Written Parody.


**So I noticed I was one of the _only authors in the whole wide world_ who didn't have the ABCs as a story and w****ho doesn't love the ABCs? I mean really! This is not in chronological order. (^_^) **

* * *

_**A**dorable—_

He always thought she was beautiful, sexy even. He loved her big blue eyes and long, unruly brown hair. Nevertheless, this was different. The first time he saw her _beg_, he thought she was absolutely _adorable_. Her full bottom lip pushed out and her large blue eyes glowed. The first time he saw her plead, it was over a moonpeach. Yes, a moonpeach.

"Come on, Zuko! Please?" Those were the first words that came out of her full, pouty lips. Of course, it did help that he was in all possession of the peaches for a while. The trees had been picked for Thanksgiving. She was in a desperate stage, considering the fact that they weren't allowed to eat that day because of the holiday. And the Fire Lord is allowed _anything_ he wanted.

* * *

_**B**lue—_

That was the shade of her nation. The color she loved to see in the castle. As she said, "the Fire Nation uptight fools didn't know soft colors when they saw them." According to her, everyone who hated blue was a traitor to their Fire Lady. Blue was the color even Zuko had begun to love. However, he had years to learn. Then again, he had loved it the moment he saw it in her eyes.

* * *

_**C**old—_

Zuko had only suffered through the meaning of the word twice, and he didn't want to suffer it again. That, though, was inevitable. Katara was a stubborn woman. If she said she wanted to see her family, she wanted to see her family. Nothing would stop her. Not even the Council's disapproval changed her resolve. Zuko, though, agreed with the Council when they said that the Fire Lady was out of her mind if she wanted to go alone. As a result, the Fire Lord was stuck on a ship, one continent and two oceans away from his homeland.

This was nothing though. At least he was with his Lady. _At least I'm not suffering this hell alone,_ he couldn't help but add. Zuko just didn't _do_ cold.

* * *

_**D**emon—_

That was what she thought of him the first time they met. (She also thought he was pretty stupid for coming to the South Pole with a bald head, but that was beside the point.) Demon was written everywhere on him—in his walk, his look, his clothes…everywhere. His posture screamed that he came from hell.

That was all Katara could see.

Then she saw his molten-gold eyes. They screamed for help. They told a story of pain. Begged for approval. Searched for happiness. Cried in sadness. Wondered when they would find someone who accepted them without question.

Katara didn't see a demon anymore. She saw a little sixteen-year-old, a year older than herself, in desperate need of support.

* * *

_**E**ffortless—_

Their relationship was just that—effortless. There was no smoke and mirrors or pained smiles. They could just sit on the balcony of their room and watch the stars. An awkward silence never overcame when they were together. Katara could always just snake an arm around Zuko's neck and stare into his eyes. Every apology and word that ever needed to be said drifted in the air, unspoken. Every acceptance could be breathed in. Effort was an unneeded, dismal thing.

* * *

_**F**orgiveness—_

Zuko begged forgiveness every night. Katara always told him he was forgiven, that the night in the catacombs was just a small bump in the road, that the bad year he had was just that—a bad year. That he was afraid and unknowing. That she no longer held it against him. That the moment he proved himself, he was forgiven.

Yet Zuko would ask for it again every night. Katara would get annoyed a lot of the time. She would beseech that he not ask again, that he knew the answer. He would always say that reassurance was constantly reassuring. The tribeswoman-turned-queen would kiss his scarred cheek and smile. Forgiveness was a wonderful thing, such a powerful weapon. It could make or obliterate a person. In this case, make.

* * *

_**G**old—_

Katara had learned to love the color. It was the color of her bed, the color of her dresser, the color of the statues in the courtyard. She was sure it was the color of the tapestry the Fates had made for her, she was sure. The color of happiness was gold. It was a bright color, the color of her life. What made it so much more important was the fact that it was the color of her lover's eyes, the color of her children's eyes, the color of her mother-in-law's eyes. Gold was the color that lined her life.

* * *

_**H**eat—_

The temperature was both hated and loved. _How could the sun beat so powerfully year-round?_ the Fire Lady wondered every morning she woke. She woke with sweats.

Zuko, however, loved the heat. He loved the way sweat licked her eyebrows, dripped down her back. Warmth was the weather of a firebender. Heat was the temperature of passion. That was all he felt when he was around her in the warmth of the patio.

* * *

_**I**diot—_

How stupid could Zuko be? How retarded could one man be? How much of an idiot could the ruler of a nation _be_?

Katara's head once rang with those three questions, all of which asked the same thing: How could Fire Lord Zuko forget his Lady's birthday? It was the same day the war ended, for Tui's sake! He was still signing papers for that, seven years later! She was fuming. That idiot! She wondered when he would figure it out…

* * *

_**J**erkbender—_

The infamous nickname that "Sir" Sokka had given Zuko. Sometimes, Zuko wondered why he had dubbed that idiot sir anyway. Honestly, the firebender preferred his sister's pet name to that…monstrosity. It annoyed him the most when his wife called him that. Jerkbender this…Jerkbender that. Not only did it annoy him, but it scared him. Jerkbender was what she would call him when she was angry. Angry and pregnant. It meant he had done something very, _very_ wrong. Like get her pregnant for the third time in the past three years. She was not a nice person when she was pregnant—that is, unless she was in _that_ mood. Even then, the name "Jerkbender" came in, in the aftermath of it.

* * *

_**K**ind—_

To the public, Katara was the kind one. (Zuko was the one that betrayed his nation and then did it better.) But the moment Zuko held her while she cried over Aang's death, she knew the public was wrong. What kind of evil man, as the country used to believe him to be, would hold his girlfriend as she cried over an ex?

* * *

_**L**onely—_

Every tear she would shed over her lost baby was one of loneliness. Katara felt empty inside. She felt the empty weight of her flat stomach awkwardly. She felt lonely. Her body, her soul, felt alone without the weight of her baby. A baby that was stillborn. Zuko would hold her, whispering sweet nothings into her ear and comforting words. They could try again, he said.

She didn't feel lonely anymore.

* * *

_**M**ommy—_

Katara became that word to its fullest meaning. She would cradle he dark-skinned, gold-eyed child in her arms; pour her soul to him. Zuko would wrap an arm around both them and smile. He would say, "Mommy's home," to Korry when Katara came back. Mommy and Daddy were together, in Korry's eyes. Mommy fit the role.

* * *

_**N**o—_

Zuko would forever hate this word. _No._ Ugh. Such an ugly word—no. Especially when he needed her. As in _needed_ her. Pregnancy was hell.

* * *

_**O**bvious—_

Toph, blind as she was, could see it. Sokka could see it. Aang was able to see it, refuse it as he might. Suki could see it. Ty Lee tried to set them up.

It was so obvious that they liked each other, even during their time in the gAang. It was obvious to everyone, that is, other than the two involved. Aang preferred to keep them oblivious to their feelings, but the others knew otherwise. _If they don't get together soon_, Ty Lee would always mutter, _I am going to get good-ol' Katara jealous._

That idea worked in the long shot. Now it was obviousto them too.

* * *

_**P**assion—_

Zuko and Mai were missing that. Aang was too young for Katara to even dream of having passion; she doubted he even knew the meaning of the word. At the end of each relationship, it was only a friendly goodbye, which was neither painful nor wounding. At the beginning to Zuko and Katara's relationship, the two feared it was all they had. The Council feared it was all they had. But they were all wrong. It was so much more than just passion. They understood each other; they loved each other.

* * *

_**Q**uite—_

The birds stopped singing. The turtle-ducks refused to quack. This was too perfect a moment to ruin with any sound other than the quick breathing of the new parents. No, not even with that

They refused to breathe. Holding their breath, the Fire Lord Zuko and Fire Lady Katara watched their newborn baby boy. Zuko moved a lock of black hair from Korry's closed blue eyes. Katara just stared at her child. _She_ had made something this beautiful? She could believe that Zuko had made something of such beauty, but had she?

The world was quite.

* * *

_**R**andom—_

Zuko was sitting at his chair, signing pile after thick pile of treaty papers. Of course, even after three years, the papers kept on coming. His fingers were cramping up because of his hold on the quill.

Katara came in, stomping randomly. She said he didn't pay enough attention to her. She cried. Zuko tried to comfort her, panicking over the many tears flowing onto her dark cheeks. Frantic, Katara kissed him. She apologized, mustering something about a period.

Zuko decided that if she ever came to his office randomly, he would greet her first thing, lest she cry again.

* * *

_**S**okka—_

Katara's big brother played a big part in letting her marry the Fire Lord. It was customary in the Southern Water Tribe that a marriage gets blessings from any and every older man in the family. The couple already knew what Pakku would say. It would be hypocritical if he not let them marry. They knew they had Hokoda's reluctant approval. What they didn't know was what Sokka's answer was. He was good friends with Zuko, but he was also Katara's older brother. In the end, after giving them a nice scare, he gave them their blessings.

* * *

_**T**ired—_

It was amazing how quickly she fell sleep. After all those sleepless nights, how the world of dream overtook her. It was more than a nice surprise; it was a miracle. She was peacefully at peace. Until the newborn twins started their nightly cry.

Zuko popped one golden orb open and poked Katara's side. She opened a blue eye in response. "Aren't you going to go to them?"

Katara groaned, "I gave _birth_ to them! What more do you want? I'm tired, you get them."

* * *

_**U**nexpected—_

Katara smiled. Her face was a happy glow. When Ursa asked what happened to make her so happy, Katara had just grinned, saying that she needed to tell Zuko first. Now was the perfect time to tell him, under the glow of the golden flames on her shared bed. Zuko grinned at her exposed frame, which was in nothing but her underclothes. He climbed onto her and kissed her neck. Between moans, Katara had told him they were having their fist child.

Zuko fainted.

* * *

_**V**__aluable—_

If they could put a price value on each other—

They couldn't. They were too valuable to each other. Zuko was sure Katara was more valuable than all the gold in his country and of his people. Katara was positive Zuko was worth more than anything she could ever charge or make in her entire lifetime.

* * *

_**W**__ondering—_

Katara was always wondering what it was about her that made her so attractive to Zuko. When she looked in a mirror, she could only see dark brown hair, and blue eyes. Sure, she was prettier than most, but…so was Mai. She also had a bigger temper than Mai did. So…what was it?

Zuko wondered the same thing. What was it that Katara found so wonderful about him? All he saw in the mirror was gold eyes and a large, comet-shaped scar. Why _did_ she like about him?

* * *

_**X**__-marks-the-spot—_

Who started this game anyway? Zuko or Katara? Neither really knew. All they knew was that both loved the game. One, the one not searching, would mark a spot on his or her body and the other would search for it. The trick was, they couldn't use their hands… The dirty things they could do with that game…

* * *

_**Y**__awn—_

That was always his stupid game plan—yawn, stretch, arm around shoulder…the whole nine yards. Stupid as it was, Katara would never tire of it. The warmth of his arm around her was amazing. Sometimes, when he wouldn't yawn, Katara would yawn herself and grab his arm, only to put it around her shoulders.

* * *

_**Z**__utara—_

Neither of them could get away from that stupid mash-up name. Ty Lee and Suki had made it up. Katara could _see_ how it was both their names—_Zu_, as in _Zu_ko, _tara_ as in Ka_tara_—but that didn't mean she had to like it. Zuko just hated it. It sounded like a superhero name. What part of them was a superhero? Okay, so maybe he _had_ taught the avatar, and maybe Katara _had_ finished the fight with that crazy thing Zuko would always love because it was his sister. Still. The hero was the late Avatar Aang. Who in their right minds would love—let alone _like_—that?

* * *

**Yes, "X" and "Z" were like Written Parody's ****The ABC's Of Zuko And Katara. Other than that, I think everything else is mine.**


End file.
